


Genesis

by Trash



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: AU, M/M, Priest!Kyle, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, eventual Dyle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 23:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15497367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: Kyle is a priest, and Dan is looking for divine intervention.





	Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> Endless thanks to [trailsofpaper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanwall/pseuds/trailsofpaper) for beta reading this for me. And to [parsleylion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parsleylion) for always fangirling with/encouraging me.

Kyle has his fag breaks on the bridge for a number of reasons. 

1) The view is really nice.   
2) The people he works with are of the firm belief that smoking is only for lower classes of people and he is therefore bad for their image. (There’s a designated smoking area at the back of the church, and anybody in it is sneered at from the office window.)  
3) He hates his colleagues. 

Today is one of the first real days of summer. The road does that wobbly heat thing, and people are flip-flopping their way around town slowly with bottles of water wet with condensation. He longs to undo is collar, opts for rolling up his sleeves instead. 

He’s putting his cigarette out on the wall when he sees the man further down the bridge, testing the strength of the railing. That tends to only mean one thing, so he sidles closer, carefully. The way you would approach a scared kitten. 

“Alright?”

The man’s eyes flick to his collar then back to his face. “Fantastic, thanks,” he says. 

“I don’t really believe you,” Kyle says. 

“Yeah, well.”

They stand side by side in silence, looking down at the river. Eventually the man sighs, “Are you just going to lurk here in the hopes that I won’t jump?”

“Kind of my job.”

“Too bad. I’m not into your boss,” the man says, neutrally. 

Kyle shrugs. “Most people aren’t. They can be a bit of a dick. I’m Kyle.”

“Uh. Dan.”

“Okay, Uh Dan, if you’re not into God what are you into?”

Dan frowns. “Music,” he says eventually.

“Right. So. You think you’ll be able to enjoy music if you throw yourself off a bridge?”

Dan turns his head so quickly he almost gets whiplash. “Aren’t you supposed to be sermonising about the...the white, pearly gates and the...the fat babies with harps?”

“You mean cherubs? And no. Really, I’m not meant to be doing anything other than helping the Director of Music fix the photocopier jam and then fold service sheets but...”

“But here you are, being a Good Samaritan.”

Kyle smirks. “In that story, the priest saw the guy in trouble and crossed the road.”

“Oh, feel free to piss off then and leave me to it.”

“I can’t.”

Dan groans. “Why not? Because Jesus will see?”

“No. Everybody knows Jesus can’t see you if it’s cloudy.”

Dan stares at him, runs a hand over his shaved head. He looks like he’s waiting for Kyle to fix this, to fix him. He looks desperate. 

“This has nothing to do with being a priest, okay? It has nothing to do with...with God or whatever. It has everything to do with being a decent human being recognising the suffering of someone else.”

“Right.”

“Right. What’s so bad that you’re here?”

Dan shrugs and looks down at the river. “Everything’s just shit, isn’t it? Like, if you think about it too much. Which I do,” he gives a self deprecating laugh. “The world is just... we’re killing everything. Humans, I mean. We’re polluting the oceans, temperatures keep rising, our leaders are toxic, people are getting poisoned with Russian nerve agents, kids are being gunned down for walking while black. It’s. A lot.” He takes a deep breath. “And my job is garbage. I work at a bank selling debt to poor people. I’m part of the problem. And I just. Can’t. Anymore.”

“That’s a lot of worry to take on yourself,” Kyle says. He wants to say that he gets it, that he sympathises, that some days he can’t bring himself to check the news. But this isn’t about him. 

Dan laughs. “Yeah. If only there was some, like, almighty being who could just fix all the broken shit for us. Oh, wait.”

Kyle smirks. “Fair enough. But the thing with is that they God gave us free will. So They’re just watching all of this, all this broken shit, They’ve just got to watch it all happen. Powerless. Sound familiar?”

“Are you likening me to God?”

“Sort of. What I mean is, They can’t just zap us with lightning bolts.”

Dan’s knuckles tighten round the railing. “Yeah but, why not?”

“They promised not to. After the whole Noah thing. So here we are. Fucked. And God just has to watch us. So if you’re waiting for some divine intervention you’re going to be waiting a while, mate.”

“That’s...worse,” Dan says, desperately. “That’s even worse.”

“Not really. Anyway, you don’t believe in God, so it shouldn’t bother you. What I mean is, we have the power to change things in a way God can’t.”

“Like how?”

Kyle edges forward and puts a hand over one of Dan’s, lightly. Gives him time to pull away. He doesn’t. “Like your job. You feel like a cog in the machine? Stop being a cog.”

Dan laughs. “Like it’s that easy.”

“I didn’t say it was easy. Nothing is. But if you jump this shit will still be going on, just with one less person raging against the machine.”

Dan’s hands fall from the railing. He looks like all the air has gone out of him, like he might collapse, and Kyle braces to catch him.

“Thanks,” he says, glancing around for the first time. “People are staring.”

“People are worried,” Kyle says. “If I wasn’t here it would be someone else. There’s a lot of hate in the world, but when someone is really suffering there’s always love.”

“Is that in the bible?”

“It’s just a fact. Now, can I walk you back to town? It would be super shitty if I turned my back and you topped yourself as I walked away.”

Dan laughs, properly this time, and it’s a beautiful sound. “Yeah,” he says, “sure.”

Kyle walks him back toward the church. Homeless John is sitting on the steps and he waves when he spots Kyle. “Oi, Father. Got a light?”

“Depends,” Kyle says, eyeing the rolly in his hand. “Is that spice?” 

Homeless John crosses himself. “Just baccy, swear to God. The hostel won’t let me back in if I’m on gear.”

“Wait here a second,” he says to Dan, before going over and lighting the cigarette. It smells like tobacco, and he feels bad for doubting. But been there done that, and he knows better than to take people at their word anymore. 

“Cheers,” John says, kicking back in the sun to smoke. 

Dan is watching the whole thing neutrally. “You’re pretty young to be a vicar,” he says. 

Kyle shrugs. “That’s just because most vicars are old, not because you have to be old to be a vicar.”

“Thank you. For talking to me. I feel a bit...silly now.”

“Don’t. I don’t want you to think your feelings are invalid. They’re not. Just...turn the sad feeling into something else. Turn it into anger - because that’s more powerful. Get mad - do something about it. That’s what I did.”

“Thought vicars were pacifists.”

“Mostly. But my mum dragged me to church every Sunday where I had to listen to a homophobic priest preach about hell and damnation and I was ready to pack that shit in but I didn’t. I went to seminary, I got ordained. Now I run a welcoming church, which is laughed at by those same, crusty old priests because nobody wants to go to a faggot’s church.”

“They say that? To your face?”

“Pretty much. I’m used to it. I know I’m loved. By my misfit congregation and by God, so it’s all good. What I’m saying is, fight the power.”

Dan raises an eyebrow. “Fight the power.”

“If you’re not part of the solution you’re part of the problem.”

“Okay, Clinton Cards, that’s enough.”

“Friends are just family you choose.”

Dan laughs, that sound again. “I have to go to work,” Dan says. “Since I’m not dead, and all that.”

Kyle sticks out a hand and Dan shakes it firmly. “Have a good day, Dan.”

“You too, Father Kyle.”

“Call me daddy,” Kyle says, because he has no impulse control. 

Dan almost doubles over laughing. “Maybe another time,” he says, already turning away. 

Kyle watches him until he’s gone, then heads back to the office.


End file.
